


Operation Salsa

by ddagent



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Cravings, F/M, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-08
Updated: 2015-06-08
Packaged: 2018-04-03 12:26:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4100869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ddagent/pseuds/ddagent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the early hours of the morning and a pregnant Melinda May has a craving for salsa.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Operation Salsa

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Agents of SHIELD or any of its characters, or settings - all belongs to Marvel and ABC.
> 
> This was originally written for the 'Finals Week Promptathon' but it has been edited and reworked. Big thank you to the anon who prompted the original fic; and to righteousnerd for 'persuading' me to do this today. Happy reading! : )

Melinda had always been the light sleeper. Every time Phil would toss and turn, Melinda’s eyes would immediately open and she would turn to him; looking to calm his uneasy thoughts. Every time a board creaked in the corridor outside her apartment, or a siren went screaming by, Melinda would be awake. She’d told him once that it had come from years of listening out for the phone, needing to be awake at a moment’s notice to hear news from her mother. Now, six months pregnant with their first child, Melinda slept more easily, more peacefully.

 

Now it was Phil who was the light sleeper.

 

Phil felt the bed shift, Melinda turning from the centre of their bed. That was all it took for Phil to snap his eyes open, his body sitting upwards so he could address the problem. His fiancée was sitting on the edge of the bed, hands flat on the mattress. Phil leant over, pressed a hand to the small of her back. “Hey, everything okay? She kicking again?”

 

Melinda nodded. “Like a soccer player getting ready for the big game.” She groaned, pushing up from the mattress into a standing position. “I’m going to make myself something to eat.”

 

Phil nodded, mouth fixed in worry as he watched Melinda pad to the doorway. “Want me to come with?”

 

“No, I’m okay.” Melinda turned, offering him a smile. “You get some sleep. One of us should.”

 

He leant back against the pillows, hands crossed over his chest, his ears straining to hear the sounds of Melinda creeping down into the kitchen of their new house. He tried to close his eyes, tried to focus on the paperwork that was due or the rooms that needed repainting…but no matter what Phil thought of, he still could not get to sleep.

 

Opening his eyes once more, Phil turned to the empty space where Melinda had just been. They’d been sharing a bed since the Academy – long nights after studying, early mornings after a wild time in a local bar. It had taken them another decade for them to do more than just sleeping, and another five years after that for them to spend the night together. Since then, Phil had found it difficult to sleep without her. He _could._ He just did not want to.

 

“ _Phil?”_

 

Phil immediately jolted upright at the sound of his partner’s voice _“_ Melinda?Everything okay?”

 

“ _Do we have any salsa?”_

 

Clint had polished off the last tub when he and Natasha had come round for a movie last week. Pulling off the covers, feet already on the carpet, Phil replied. “I don’t think so, babe.”

 

They’d bought this house for two reasons: it had a beautiful room for their new nursery, and the kitchen was _incredible._ Their first night here Phil had made chilli with tortilla chips and salsa and they’d gently made love on the kitchen floor. Now, as Phil came down the back staircase, he saw his fiancée sitting at the breakfast bar with her head in her hands.

 

“It was _Barton_ , wasn’t it?”

 

Phil nodded, joining her by the breakfast bar. He pressed his hands against her shoulders, massaging the skin until he could feel her start to unwind. “I’m sorry, Melinda. You feeling in the mood for tortilla chips?”

 

She sighed. “Chips, salsa, melted cheese…it’s all I can think about.”

 

This was one of Melinda’s more sensible food cravings. There had been the weekend where all she’d eaten was cereal; unable to eat anything else whilst dealing with morning sickness. There had been the pickles. Then there had been the time he’d come home from work to find Melinda eating nothing more than a bowl of jalapeno peppers and marshmallows. Although they’d both been over the moon that they were pregnant, it had taken its toll on Melinda. Losing control of her body and her emotions had been difficult for her to accept. Phil did what he could to help. At least, he tried.

 

“Your wish is my command.” Phil pressed a kiss to her cheek, before leaning over to grab his car keys. “I’ll run right out, pick up a tub of salsa. I’m sure there’s a twenty four hour grocery store open in the vicinity.”

 

Melinda smiled, snagging the bottom of his sleep shirt and pulling him in for a kiss. Her hands cupped his face, her thumb brushing the stubble of his jaw. “Thank you.”

 

“Call me if you need anything else, okay? _Anything._ Even if its ice cream from another state.”

 

Melinda nodded, smoothing down the fabric of his shirt. “I will, promise. Just…be safe, okay? I know you and grocery stores.” 

 

Phil chuckled, stealing one more kiss before he headed out into the night. He made sure to set the external alarm, knowing Melinda would set the internal one as soon as he left. Stifling a yawn, Phil jumped in Lola and headed out to find the first all night grocery store he could.

 

\--

 

Phil would do anything for Melinda. A few years ago when questioned, he would have simply said _I’d take a bullet for her._ The same was still true, although now the list expanded to more menial tasks like searching grocery stores in the early hours for salsa dip. Melinda always hated to impose on him, but he really would do anything for her. Phil had proven that when she’d texted him about a doughnut craving in the middle of a dreadfully dull meeting.

 

He’d turned up twenty minutes later having raided Krispy Kreme.

 

But this errand was proving more difficult than a doughnut run. The first store he tried had just put the closed sign in the window. The second was a gas station and despite a little food on their shelves there was no salsa. The minutes were ticking along, and Phil was growing impatient. He didn’t want to leave Melinda for much longer. So he decided to try one more place, pulling into a spot just by the entrance. _I hope they’ve got some._

 

Racing inside, Phil was immediately greeted by the security guard on the door. The man looked him up and down, frowning when he took in Phil’s appearance. It took him longer than it should have done to remember he was wearing his _Captain America_ pyjamas.

 

“Are you okay, sir?” the guard asked, eyes narrowing; a hand almost twitching for the Taser on his belt.

 

Phil took a deep breath, hoping to avoid an incident. “I am. My fiancée’s pregnant; she’s got a huge craving for salsa. This is the third place I’ve tried tonight.”

 

The guard smiled wistfully, perhaps recalling the pregnancy of his own child. “Aisle two.”

 

“Thank you!”

 

He jogged over to aisle two, thankful that he’d finally tracked down the salsa that would make Melinda happy. But as he found the right spot on the shield…it was empty. No jar.  _Nothing. “Shit.”_

 

Phil had promised when they’d found out about the baby that he would do everything in his power to help her. Whether that meant giving her long, luxurious massages or racing out at two in the morning to get salsa or stepping back from field operations himself, he would do it. He would do anything for her. But he couldn’t. _Not really._

Leaning his forehead against the shelf, eyes glazed as he stared at the empty spot, Phil was overwhelmed with disappointment. He was supposed to do this. He couldn’t carry their child, but he could do _this_. What if, when the baby was born, he’d screw up again? Not pick up the right formula, forget to pick them up from school, get killed on a mission and leave his child without a daddy just like he had been… Sucking in a breath, shaking his head, Phil tried to focus. He needed to go home. He needed to get back to Melinda.

 

Shuffling out of the grocery store, Phil caught the guard’s eye. He seemed to nod; his own frown revealing understanding of Phil’s plight. At least he wasn’t judging him. Somewhere between the shelves and the door, Phil’s shoelace came undone. He reached down, tied it, looked up only to see something in the corner of the store. Smiling, Phil realised he knew _exactly_ what to do.

 

\--

 

Arriving home half an hour later, Phil found Melinda pacing in their kitchen. His fiancée immediately turned to him, arms crossed over her stomach. He had been later than expected. _Shit._ He dropped the bags to the counter; then walked over to wrap Melinda in his arms. He felt her pregnant stomach between them, their little one. Pulling away, Phil pressed a light kiss to her lips before kneeling down to greet their unborn child.

 

“Sorry I was so late. Change of plans. She still kicking?”

 

Melinda nodded, sliding Phil’s hands over her belly so he could feel. Their daughter was going to be a fighter. _Wouldn’t expect anything less._ “I think she was missing her daddy.”

 

“Well I missed you both.” He pressed a kiss through the faded fabric of his _Captain America_ shirt that Melinda wore. “I couldn’t find salsa at any of the grocery stores I went to. So I decided to improvise. I’ve got tomatoes, I’ve got peppers, I’ve got new tortilla chips…a whole bunch of ingredients. I even picked up some mini marshmallows.”

 

Retreating back to the counter, Phil started taking items out of the bags. He reached for the chopping board ready to start when he noticed that Melinda had her arms crossed again. “Babe, you okay?”

 

“ _Phil._ It’s two thirty in the morning.”

 

He’d taken too long. _Dammit._ “You’re not hungry anymore.”

 

Melinda smiled. “No, I’m starving.”

 

He grinned, reaching for the tomatoes. “Then I’m making salsa. You sit down, snack on the marshmallows, and you can tell me all about the operations you didn’t approve today.”

 

A snort. “It’s a deal.”

 

Phil smiled, watching happily as Melinda took a seat across from him. He listened eagerly as she described her new position at SHIELD, at the agents she’d managed to make cry even whilst pregnant in Administration. He chopped, he peeled. He watched Melinda eat mini marshmallows and peppers together in a bowl.

 

He felt overwhelmed with happiness, but that didn’t stop the terror trying to creep in. The terror of being a horrible father; an absent father. The terror of not being a good husband; a good partner. But then Melinda would smile,  _just smile,_ and Phil realised he had to be doing something right. 


End file.
